Realm Racer
by beccam112
Summary: Sarah Tracy lives an unimportant life. No one knows her. Then Earth gets wrapped into an intergalactic race with a prize. Earth is threatened by the Nine Realms and rogue aliens if they refuse. Sarah happens to be an amazing shot. But what happens when her job as shooter of the Red Vengeance gets her trapped in a world she doesn't belong in. LokixOC
1. Sarah Tracy

SHIELD was preparing for war. Okay, that description is just a little over the top. But they were preparing for something big. That much Steve Rogers knew. So when Clint Barton showed up at the gym Steve frequented, he was a little apprehensive. Clint merely sidled up to him, Steve glanced at him warily. The man name Captain America tried to ignore the archer, instead focusing on punching the heavy bag in front of him. Right punch, right punch, left hook, right punch, left punch, left hook, left punch, right punch, right-

"I have a message," Clint stated, the archer looked indifferent, but Steve, despite being naïve since his unearthing, knew there was something wrong. He continued to punch the bag. Right hook, left kick, left punch, right hook, right hook, right hook, right-

"We're going to a competition Steve." Steve stopped in confusion.

"You came to tell me we're going to be in a competition? What competition could SHIELD possibly want us for Clint?" Steve asked incredulously. Clint grimaced.

"It's not just a competition. It's an intergalactic race you could say. All Nine Realms are going to appear and whatever rogues want to try their hand at it," Clint explained, still not looking the Captain in the eye.

"Okay, so what's the big deal?" Steve asked, unwrapping his hands as he listened to Clint warily.

"Well for one, it's in space. Somewhere, not really sure, all we know is we're going to be summoned in about a week's time," he explained further.

Steve nodded slowly. "Okay, so we get summoned and compete in this competition. What's the catch, you're not yourself Clint."

"The catch is it's a free for all Steve, we have no idea what we're going up against. Civilizations no one has ever heard of. Aliens we don't know anything about," Clint stressed. It dawned on Steve.

"This is a suicide mission," Steve mumbled.

"It could be, yes," Clint affirmed. The man had just gotten engaged, so Steve could almost see where his apprehension came from. "There is a prize as well."

"What's the prize?" Steve asked as he grabbed his gym bag, knowing Clint was taking him to SHIELD headquarters.

"No one knows, it's supposed to be mind-blowing though." And with that, the two were down the street, and on their way to SHIELD headquarters.

"What are we looking for?" Steve asked again, as he watched groups of people file in to the firing range and fire at the targets of the oddly shaped ships as they passed by the people. Gunshots rang in the room, faintly audible to the Captain from the room above. He watched Clint walk around with the shooters, dismissing them one by one until a new group had to come in. He looked exhausted. They'd already spent three days going through applicants to find another shooter for their ship. Well ship was a peculiar word.

The ship was a vehicle of sorts, not quite a plane yet it couldn't be described as an automobile. A hover car was closer to an accurate description, if a hover car could fly hundreds of feet off the ground and was armed to the teeth. Which was why they needed another shooter. Clint Barton, the renowned Hawkeye could not shoot and defend this ship by himself. Director Fury agreed with him. And with Steve as the pilot, they needed another shooter to defend themselves. So they set up a discreet challenge, find the next best shooter. There were some good shooters that arrived too. But none of them were comfortable around Hawkeye, they all took orders. They all trembled. They all feared his skill.

"Name?" Clint asked as he went through the next batch of shooters. It was a boy, about six feet tall, with brown hair.

"Andrew Granshaw, sir."

"Shoot the target, Andrew," Clint repeated.

"Yes sir," and shot all the targets, slightly off the mark where the people were pictured on the paper.

"You're dismissed." And with that Andrew filed out.

"Name?"

"Garrett Collins." Clint glanced at the boy, short with choppy blond hair.

"Shoot the-"

Bullets fired, hitting each face of the people in the pictures. Hawkeye blinked.

"You're dismissed."

"But I hit all of them!" Garrett seethed. Clint glared.

"You. Are. Dismissed." The boy stomped out of the room.

"Name?"

"Sarah Tracy." Clint glanced up at the second girl that'd come here today. Out of the hundreds of applicants he'd met. This one didn't seem any different. She looked at him for direction.

"Shoot the targets, Sarah," Clint repeated again for the hundredth time today.

"The people or just the target in general?" she asked, loading the gun. Clint blinked.

"Whichever you classify as the target," he said carefully. Gunshots fired rapidly and Clint glanced at the targets as they stopped moving. No people were shot but the shots were sporadic over the ships themselves.

"Why did you not shoot the people?" Clint asked curiously. She shrugged.

"Seemed more advantageous to shoot the engines rather than the people." Clint glanced at the girl once more before writing something down. He motioned at the balcony and saw Fury nod.

"Sarah, please go down the hall and to the first door on the left. Thank you for coming." And with that Clint continued down the line, grateful that at least one person seemed to make it through. He hoped Fury didn't scare her off. She seemed nice.

Nick Fury didn't have to wait long before the girl popped her head into the room, looking around before spotting him sitting down at a table. The room reminded her of the interrogation rooms on those crime TV shows. Fury motioned for her to sit down at the seat across from him. She hesitantly came in, shutting the door quietly before taking a seat but not pulling up to the table.

"Something you needed from me?" she asked. Fury didn't let any emotion escape from his face.

"Yes, why did you come to this challenge Miss Tracy?" Fury asked staring at the girl. She couldn't be more than nineteen years old.

"Well, I saw the flyer, thought I might as well try," she said with a shrug.

"You said that you shot at the engines because it seemed more advantageous. What did you mean?" Fury continued.

Sarah looked at the wall adjacent to the door, seeming to think before she answered.

"Well, shooting the people wouldn't do much good. I have no idea why I would shoot them. Nor do I know if one of them was a pilot. Or how good they were protected. Seems like an awful big risk to take by shooting at the people. And a waste of bullets too. I'd rather shoot at the engines, slow the vehicle down or stop it that way," Sarah said slowly before looking at Fury.

"I have a proposition for you Miss Tracy."

"I'm listening," Sarah replied, leaning forward slightly.

"So how'd she fare?" Clint asked Steve as he sat down for the first time that day. He was so tired of hearing gunshots. The girl was the only one he'd chosen and he hadn't heard from Fury yet. Steve sat down as well, cup of coffee in hand.

"She did well," Steve responded, taking a gulp of coffee. "Last I heard, Fury was giving her the details of the . . . competition."

"She's kind of young to be fighting an intergalactic contest don't you think?" Clint asked, starting to doubt giving her over to Fury without thinking of her well being. What if she had a family? Or a boyfriend? Hell, for all Clint knew, this girl could have a kid. Maybe she was finishing college. Clint shook his head in frustration. Damn him for not thinking about that. It wasn't often that Hawkeye felt remorse.

"I'm sure she'll do fine, if she decides to do it that is," Steve assured.

"I'm not sure I can stand spending the next four days going through more applicants," Clint admitted. His last four days on earth for all he knew.

"Well maybe-"

The door opened and they both turned to meet the uncertain gaze of the object of conversation.

"I'm sorry to interrupt. But is one of you," she paused, looking at the paper in her hand. "Clint Barton?" Sarah glanced up at the two. Clint nodded.

"I'm Clint. Sarah right?" he asked, standing and offering a hand. She looked at it before extending her own to shake.

"Yes, well I was told to come find you. Director Fury said you could tell me what's expected of me on this team?" she asked more than said. Steve smiled.

"Yeah we can inform you. I'm Steve Rogers by the way," Steve said, extending his own hand. Sarah shook his hand as well.

"Never thought I'd get to meet Captain American and Hawkeye," she admitted, "but I gotta say this is getting more interesting by the moment."

"Just wait till you hear what you'll be doing," Clint replied. And with that the discussion began.


	2. What the Hell

Last time:

_"Never thought I'd get to meet Captain American and Hawkeye," she admitted, "but I gotta say this is getting more interesting by the moment."_

_ "Just wait till you hear what you'll be doing," Clint replied. And with that the discussion began._

I blinked. "So let me get this straight," I clarified as I looked between the two men in front of me, "I'm supposed to be manning a turret?"

"Yes."

"On a ship?"

"Yes."

"An intergalactic racing ship that we're flying in order to win some race?"

"Yes."

"And we leave when?"

"Four days."

"Fucking hell," I murmured as I rubbed a hand over my face. This has got to be the longest day I've ever experienced in my whole nineteen years of living. And I thought high school was a nightmare. I sighed.

"Well if it makes you feel any better, there is a group that's going, it's not just us," Captain America said. He looked sympathetic and I tried to look happy.

"And whose on the team?" I asked warily. If Hawkeye and Captain America were two of the people coming surely the rest had to be normal.

"Well there's Jane Foster, Director Fury, Dr. Eric Selvig," the Captain counted off on his fingers.

"And Tony Stark," Hawkeye put out. I sighed again.

"Now I wish it was just us three," I muttered. I blinked realizing how that sounded and looked up. Clint Barton was laughing and Steve Rogers looked like he was trying very hard not to. I felt my cheeks warm and I tried to apologize but they waved me off.

"It's cool kid. So where ya from?" Hawkeye asked. I frowned.

"I'm from Kansas," I stated. Not many great people come from Kansas I supposed.

"Cool! I'm from New York, so this is my home," the Captain admitted. I nodded.

"I have family up here. He says he loves New York," I said off handedly.

"He?"

"Yeah, my nephew. I haven't seen him in years though," I shrugged. "He doesn't particularly like us so . . ." I trailed off, waving a hand.

"Sorry bout that," Captain America mused. I shrugged again.

"So not that I'm not enjoying your company or anything but is there any way I can, ya know, sleep? I'm exhausted," I stated, hoping I hadn't offended them.

"Yeah sure. I'll show you your room," and with that Hawkeye got up and started out the door. I pushed my chair in and nodded to Captain America.

"G'night Mr. Rogers," I stated as I left.

"Please, call me Steve," he said with a grin. I paused before giving a small nod.

"Well, g'night Steve," I left the room and followed the other hero down a few halls until I got to my room. It wasn't anything grand. Just a nice sized room. I thanked Hawkeye but he waved me off.

"Sarah, I don't know if you've realized it, but all of us are going to be stuck in space somewhere for who knows how long. Try to relax. I'm not Hawkeye first, I'm Clint, just like Steve is Steve first and Captain America second." I thought about it before nodding, thinking that was probably the longest conversation I'd ever have with Hawk-, Clint, and just nodded.

"Ok, thanks Clint, hope I can live up to your expectations," I joked as I entered my room. I turned to see if he was there but he'd left so I relaxed and shut my door, a big metal affair that looked like a ship door with the big wheel thing for a handle.

My room wasn't big, as I said, but it was nice sized. A bed and a small table in one corner. A bathroom door in the other that led to a small bathroom with a shower. There was even a small dresser in one corner. I opened it to find a bunch of my clothes in it. I huffed. I wasn't too pleased with the thought of someone going through my stuff at my apartment. Oh Lord, I wonder what my friends would say if they saw some guys in suits going into my apartment and coming out with my stuff. I snickered. I could almost imagine my friend Rachel flipping out.

"What the hell are you doing?! Who are you? Do you have a visitors badge? Do you know Sarah? Stop ignoring me!"

My snicker turned into a full blown laugh. When it died down I had tears in my eyes and I was clutching my stomach. I grabbed a shirt and some shorts and quickly changed out of my t-shirt and jeans. I fell into the small twin bed and closed my eyes thinking how, if I didn't know any better, that this bed could have been my bed in my apartment. I would wake up and go back to college, forgetting about my Chemistry test I have tomorrow and my Philosophy lecture in the afternoon. I'd probably go to lunch at some fast food place with Rachel and her boyfriend and go tutor some freshman in Calculus. I sighed into the pillow and felt my world fade to black as sleep over took me.

When I woke up I was groggy and I didn't know what time it was. I groped the small table for my phone. When I couldn't find it I picked my head up, looking around before I remembered. I wasn't home. I wasn't in my apartment. I was at SHIELD. I sighed, laying back down, closing my eyes. Maybe I made a mistake taking this job. But before I could think anymore, a knock was on my door. I rolled off the bed and opened the door, running a hand through my sandy brown hair. Clint raised an eyebrow.

"What?" I asked irritably. His lips curled into a smirk.

"Nothing you just look well rested, that's all." I growled knowing he was talking about my bed head. I punched him in the arm and he blinked.

"What did you want Clint, because it sure as hell wasn't to bug me," I stated as I retreated back into my room to rummaged around for some clothes. I left the door open so Clint leaned in the door way.

"Well since you've been asleep a whole day we lost some-"

"I haven't been asleep a whole day!" I protested, throwing him a glare. He raised an eyebrow again. And I sighed. "Okay, so I sleep a lot. What were you saying?"

"We lost some time. We only have two days left now, and we need to meet with Tony to see the ship, make sure everything is up to status."

"Tony?" I asked before I remembered. "Oh! Tony Stark, right, right. Okay. Fine, let me get dressed and I'll be out." I waited and then turned when I didn't hear the door shut. Clint was just leaning against the doorway still.

"Clint?"

"Hm?"

"Get the hell out."

He chuckled and walked out of my room. I sighed. Arrogant asshole.

I pulled out a pair of jeans and a green tank top, shrugging off my sleep clothes and slipping into my fresh new clothes. I brushed my hair, the sandy waves becoming tamed as I pulled them into a low ponytail. I splashed some water on my face at the small sink and looked at my reflection. I stared at the foreign girl looking back at me. Her brown eyes seemed to sparkle in anticipation, her skin seemed clearer. She seemed wiser. But she soon sighed and turned into the Sarah Tracy I knew.

"What the hell are you doing Sarah?" I muttered to myself as I left my small room and ventured through the base. What the hell indeed.


End file.
